


take effect make effect break effect

by painting



Series: c cameron miller [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-01 15:19:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12707592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painting/pseuds/painting
Summary: Nobody fell in love with him for sneezing, at least not that time, so Cameron decided to count it as a win.





	1. cameron

**Author's Note:**

> i dont know what to say. you guys know what im like

The first time it happened, he had been in the middle of categorizing 17th Century home improvement incantations as a late afternoon task for his apprenticeship. Cameron didn’t think twice about it; sometimes the archives got dusty, and he was focused on his work, so he turned away from the temporarily cluttered countertop and sneezed into his wrist.

And then again, slightly louder the second time.

In the university library, the Special Collections center existed as an extension rather than an enclosure, and the open floor plan allowed Cameron the unfortunate opportunity to be heard. He didn’t _love_ making noise in a quiet space like that — really, though, did anyone? — but until that day, Cameron had never considered it something to fret over.

He was just resuming his work, already absorbed in wondering what kind of people would need to use a spell to remove all of the windows and carpets in their home for exactly thirteen minutes, when a young woman made her way up to the counter and tenderly laid her hand on top of his.

“God _bless_ you!” she said, and Cameron jumped because she was probably even louder than he had been, and also because he hadn’t expected anybody to approach his workspace and _touch_ him, since young people here mostly didn’t do that, and Cameron wasn’t particularly friendly with anyone at work. Everyone mostly left him alone to do his thing until the sun started to set and his supervisor gave him the okay to leave. “Are you okay? Not coming down with anything, I hope!”

Did he know her?

“I’m fine! Thank you,” Cameron said, giving a brief thumbs up with his other hand as he looked up at her to try and assess what was going on. She was pretty, with sleek hair and clothes that made her look ready to go on a run. She was probably stronger than him.

She drummed her fingers against the back of his palm. “Well, _I_ wanted to come over and check,” she told him, offering a charming, beauty pageant ready smile. “I’m Nisreen.”

“I’m… Cameron,” he replied slowly, hesitantly, just as he noticed her enlarged pupils and realized what was happening. 

He really, really needed to talk to somebody about this.

His Siren song was getting harder and harder to control, charming magic often slipping into his voice when he didn’t mean for it to but staying locked away when he did try to utilize its power. He seemed to have just under a fifty-percent success rate these days, and during only fifty percent of those times was he actually able to _tell_ when it was happening.

The thing was, though, that he could keep himself from talking if a situation was too risky. He didn’t think it would be as easy to stop a sneeze, if this was what things were going to be like for him now.

The magic seemed to affect everyone differently, in both intensity and length. Sometimes people just smiled at him a little more fondly, other times he’d be approached with confessions of undying love. He knew it was ultimately pretty harmless, but the fact that he wasn’t trying to charm anybody on purpose was enough to really stress him out.

Overwrought with a disproportionate amount of guilt, Cameron politely excused himself and hid amongst the back shelves until he was sure his spell had worn off.

 

-

 

The next time he had to sneeze, Cameron braced himself.

It was the day after he’d met Nisreen (who had smiled at him and waved when he passed her on his way to class that morning, but he was certain that the charm had fizzled out by then, so he didn’t really know what that was about). He was seated near the back of a lecture on the history of Djinni immigration when he felt the familiar pressure behind his eyes. He couldn’t attribute it to dust or perfume or anything that time, just one of those for-no-reason occurrences that he suspected were about to become the bane of his entire existence.

Uselessly, he tried to hold in the first one, but the second one slipped out immediately after with a vengeance.

Afterward, Cameron exhaled slowly, preparing for the worst. However, aside from a handful of murmured ‘bless you’s from his seatmates, the whole event was surprisingly nondisruptive. Nobody passed him a love note or made eyes at him from across the room. He didn’t get asked out or swooned over after class. No confessions of admiration, no affectionate hands on the small of his back. Just the sound of a droning lecture as Cameron relaxed his shoulders and went back to scribbling notes onto a loose sheet of paper.

Nobody fell in love with him for sneezing, at least not that time, so Cameron decided to count it as a win.

 

-

 

“This is _so_ not the ‘bane of your existence’,” his friend Sybil told him the following weekend as they shared a bottle of glittering apple wine at her apartment. Cameron wasn’t sure what the glitter was there for, but Sybil seemed to like it and Cameron wasn’t one to protest. “Cameron, you are so melodramatic.”

“It is!” Cameron insisted. His glass sat on Sybil’s coffee table, already half empty, and he was flopped down on the floor next to the couch. Sybil looked down at him, unimpressed. Just moments before, he’d felt one coming on and warned her to cover her ears. Sybil didn’t listen, of course, because when did she ever, and the sneeze took hold of Cameron before he’d had a chance to explain it to her.

Sybil had thought he was making a joke about his sneeze being particularly loud, which it wasn’t, really, and she told him that, but he was quick to correct her and tell her all about his problem. Sybil wasn’t anywhere near as concerned as she should have been.

“Well… here.” Sybil kicked her leg out, then slid a box of tissues off of the coffee table with her foot. It fell right onto Cameron’s chest. “The worst of your problem is solved.”

In response, Cameron blew his nose, sort of. It was hard to accomplish while lying flat on his back. “You aren’t funny,” he said. He didn’t know what to do with the tissue when he was done, and he didn’t really want to get up, so he kept it tented around the lower half of his face.

“You’re welcome for helping you out. I’m actually so funny, and you adore and cherish me,” Sybil corrected. She reached for her glass and took a sip. “Hmm. This is kind of strong. Do you think we’ll get drunk?”

“I won’t,” Cameron answered. He finally folded up the tissue and stuck it in his front right pocket. The one on the left had his keys, but the right one was usually empty. “I wish.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot. You don’t even drink that much, how are you so good at it?”

Cameron sat up just so he could shrug. “Genetics?” He downed more of his glass and Sybil topped him off. “It’s really good, even if it is basically juice.”

Sybil rolled her eyes and said, “Shut up.”

“I know you’re a lightweight,” Cameron continued. “Don’t feel like you have to keep up with me.”

“Oh my god. I’m bigger than you.”

Sybil shoved him. Cameron complied, and once again, he was lying flat on his back and contemplating his conundrums from the floor.

 

-

 

Cameron saw Sybil the next day, too, after she’d texted him late that morning to say,

 _hey lightweight_  
_im getting coffee at lincoln square_  
_lincoln square baby!  
come with me_

He wasn’t doing anything, so Cameron texted back to tell her that he was on his way.

They met just outside the gates to decide which of the several Lincoln Square cafés would do them right for the afternoon. Cameron always suspected that the arrangement of shops was created specifically for tourists and families making their rounds of college visits, but he liked it because not a lot of other students tended to hang out there. It made him feel like less of a cliché — more consumer and less “college boy”, although he wasn’t sure if one was necessarily better than the other.

He and Sybil had just passed the courtyard’s ridiculous fountain when he twisted off to the side to sneeze, this time in a escalating set of three. He wasn’t sure why he kept trying to put a lid on the first one, since all it seemed to do was make any sneezes to follow a lot more aggressive. Force of habit, maybe, and not something he ever thought to consider until now.

“Ooh, wow,” was Sybil’s playful response when Cameron came back up for air. “I see what you mean now. I’m totally feeling it.”

Oh, god.

“What do you mean?” Cameron asked, even though he definitely already knew what she meant.

Sybil grabbed hold of his arm and carefully steered him toward the café they had decided on, a German place with plum tarts and fancy imported teas. She probably would have done that anyway, charm or no charm, but her hand was pressed a little harder than usual against his bicep, radiating warmth through her gloves and the fabric of Cameron’s jacket.

“It’s like. Oh my god, Cameron. Suddenly my mind thinks that you just have the cutest sneeze I’ve ever heard in my life,” Sybil explained. “Which, maybe you do, I don’t know. I never really paid attention.”

“ _Neither did I!_ ” Cameron said. A couple of people murmured from a nearby bench, cooing at him like poor lovestruck doves.

“It’s so weird. I know what’s going on, but I still never want to let go of you,” Sybil told him. “Is this okay? I mean, like, I _can_ let go, if it’s weird for you.”

“No, it’s okay,” Cameron promised. “I like it.” It was keeping everyone else from approaching him, at least, and he knew that Sybil was safe. The physical contact was grounding.

Sybil squeezed him a little tighter. “Ooh, don’t say that!” she laughed. They reached the front door to the café and she let go to hold the door open for him. Again, Cameron thought she might have done that anyway, so he didn’t feel guilty walking in ahead of her.

The change of venue was refreshing — everything was business as usual inside of the café. Everything but Sybil, who was once more the only exception, but she knew the deal and Cameron’s charms tended to wear off of her quickly. Neither of them really knew why; there were a ton of potential reasons. Cameron wasn’t her type romantically, first off, and they were also good friends, and she claimed that she wasn’t easy to hypnotize, and so on and so forth. It made Sybil an excellent confidant.

“Cameron, honey, it’s really fine,” Sybil said while they were standing in line. She called him _honey_ when she was spell-sober, too. A lot of people did, actually, but he never knew if it was supposed to be affectionate or pitiful or something to do with a vibe that he didn’t know how to stop giving off. Maybe he just had honey-face. “I’m going to buy your drink, and I know you want to tell me I don’t have to. But I can afford it, and I invited you here, and it would also feel really awesome for me right now. So. You have to let me.”

Cameron exhaled. “Okay,” he said. “But only because we’re friends and I love you. Like as a friend.”

“Oh shut up. Don’t you start,” Sybil said over her shoulder, grinning as she approached the register.

Sybil was basically back to normal by the time they sat down, but she said it was kind of hard to tell sometimes because she liked Cameron so much anyway.

“You know you’re the only one who cares this much about it, right?” she asked him before taking a sip from her mug. It was supposed to be some kind of weird floral cappuccino, and the steam curling around her face was colored in warm pastels instead of plain white. “Like, it’s mostly just kind of cool. People are way nicer than you think they are.”

Cameron considered this. “You’re right,” he agreed, and he wished he could get the neurotic part of his mind to believe it, too. “I think when I figure out how to tell when the Siren song is coming out, I’ll be better at controlling it. Or maybe it’s the other way around. I don’t know.”

“I could ask for you,” Sybil offered.

“Who?”

“There’s a Siren in one of my classes.”

“What?!”

“Yeah.”

Cameron stared at her. “You didn’t tell me?”

“Yeah, her name is Clarissa. She’s _so_ beautiful,” Sybil recalled, looking wistful. “Hmm. Maybe I have a thing for Sirens. You’re all so good-looking.”

“Don’t you say that about me.”

Sybil laughed at that and almost spilled her drink. She set it back down on the mismatched plate that came along with it, and Cameron realized he hadn’t even touched his own cup. He took a sip, not sure if he was supposed to ingest the soaked petals and leaves floating around on top. He let them crash against his lip and decided to spoon them out to taste.

“Clarissa is in my performance elective…” Sybil began.

“Beautiful Clarissa,” Cameron said, teasing.

“Yeah, Beautiful Clarissa,” Sybil agreed. “God, she’s so pretty. Cameron, you don’t know. Anyway, it made me think, Sirens can easily become kind of a big deal, right? With a solid strategy, like… It’s easy for them to get famous. Like those musicians?”

“Oh, sure. Like those musicians,” Cameron repeated, but he knew who she meant. He couldn’t believe someone would put him in the same league as a celebrity, even though he supposed it was technically true.

“I think that’s why you’re having so much trouble finding people,” Sybil continued. “Why would a Siren waste their time at a high-end humanities school? No offense. I mean, I go here too.”

Cameron nodded.

“Maybe I’ll ask her if she used to get the same thing,” Sybil said. “But I bet her sneeze is even cuter than yours is. Again, no offense.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re in regular-love with her,” Cameron said.

“Yeah, I definitely am.” Sybil didn’t even try to deny it. She vowed to talk to Clarissa in class on Tuesday, glowing with an excuse to approach her.

 

-

 

By pure chance, Sybil saw Clarissa with her girlfriend on Monday evening, and she was too heartbroken to approach her in class the following day. She told Cameron all about it over lunch on Wednesday, in between his morning seminars and his shift in the library.

“I can’t believe it,” Sybil complained. “I’m happy that she’s happy, but I just can’t talk to her now. It’s too soon.”

“You barely knew her!” Cameron said. “You never even spoke. I can’t believe you were calling me melodramatic last week.”

“Takes one to know one.” Sybil stabbed a sweet potato cube on her plate. “But I’m strong, Cameron. My heart will go on.” She let the cube fall off of her fork, then picked it up again and ate it. “Is Celine Dion a Siren? I don’t remember.”

Cameron took a second to think about it. “I don’t remember either.”

“Maybe you could ask Celine Dion for help…” Sybil said.

“I’m sure she’s no Clarissa.”

“God. You know what? She really isn’t.” Sybil pushed her plate forward toward Cameron and took a hold of his. “Here, switch with me.”

Cameron shrugged and slid his plate forward, exchanging his Szechuan eggplant for her oven-fried salmon-with-vegetables.

“You said this was spicy? It is so not spicy,” Sybil reported after taking a bite.

“Potato, po-tah-to,” Cameron waved off.

"I don't think that means what you think it means."

"Whatever." He tried the salmon. “This is good. We can switch back if you want.”

“Nope, it’s a done deal,” Sybil said. She continued to eat, proving her point. “Anything else new with you?”

“I think…” Cameron began, just before taking a really long drink of water. “Sorry. I think, um, I think I’m getting better at controlling my voice.” He paused, testing the subject, and Sybil nodded with eager interest. “I realized that as long as I’m really focused and not distracted or anxious, I can tell when it’s coming out.”

“But you’re always distracted and anxious,” Sybil said.

Cameron slid his head into his hands dejectedly, grabbing his hair at the roots. “I _know_.”

“Okay, how about this,” Sybil said after another bite of eggplant. “You just have to catch a cold. Then you can come over and practice sneezing until you get the hang of it. I’ll be under your spell so I can take care of you and everything.”

Cameron emerged from behind his hands. “What—”

“I think this plan is foolproof.”

“There’s just no way,” Cameron said.

Sybil pointed her fork at him and made eye contact. “Think about it.”

 

-

 

Sybil seemed to have forgotten her brilliant plan when Cameron did come down sick later that winter, but he considered it for the best and rightfully quarantined himself in his apartment for four days straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had this big long thing of notes written out about this fic and this character but instead of singing sonnets about him like i want to im going to just sit and chill in my blanket cave and wonder if i'll post the link to this anywhere ever
> 
> i have ummm so much to say and i just don't know where to start. there are other fics waiting in my google docs vault


	2. cherry

For someone who had been working on a project with him for five weeks and counting, Cherry did not know a damn thing about Cameron Miller.

To be fair, the project was for an online course, so it wasn't like they were working together very closely. To be unfair, Cherry was aware that she and Cameron had at least four mutual friends and might have even run into each other at a party once or twice, for all she knew. She just hadn't bothered getting to know him beyond what was necessary for their assignment, although she'd definitely noticed him writing cryptic little notes, probably to himself, in the sidebars of their shared documents.

Peripherally, she'd heard a couple of things about him, but Cherry tended to rely more on personal evidence than rumor. A lot of people said that Cameron was really _nice_ , which, okay, great that she wasn't working with an asshole, sure. He always met their deadlines on time, which was plenty nice of him, she supposed.

Everyone also mentioned that Cameron was smart, but honestly, whatever, because everyone there was smart. Again, not like it was a bad thing to have someone smart on your team, but it still didn't tell Cherry much about her partner. She valued intelligence like anyone else reasonable would have, but considered it more of an accessory than an integral part of someone's essence. Besides, there were plenty of ways that someone could be smart.

So, _nice and smart_ wasn't telling her much, and Cherry felt kind of bad when it all caught up to her as it came time to actually design a website based on their research. This was something better discussed in person, their professor had told them (over email, ironically), and it was Cherry's idea to meet up on campus after her chapter meeting.

He arrived at the designated spot before Cherry did, even though her meeting hadn't run late. Thanks to the university attaching school ID photos to online discussion posts, Cherry didn't have trouble recognizing him. His hair was a giveaway, rusty-dark and a little wild.

"Hi," Cherry said as she approached the table, removing a winter glove and extending her hand. "Are you—"

"Miller, yeah, hi," Cameron replied, staring at her hand just before standing up to shake it. His voice was a little raspier than Cherry was expecting.

"Cool! We found each other," Cherry said. She took her hair out of the ponytail she'd been wearing it in at chapter, letting loose curls fall down over her shoulders. "I'm Cherry."

"Short for anything?" Cameron asked as he lowered himself back down into his chair.

Cherry rolled her eyes with a sheepish smile. "Charity," she disclosed, stripping out of her coat and beginning to take her laptop out of her bag. "I know. My mom and dad are nuts. They're not even religious."

"The nickname suits you," Cameron said.

"Thank you! I like it, but sometimes people think I'm telling them my name is Jerry."

Cameron seemed to consider this for a second, and then he said, "Jere-ity."

Right away, Cherry laughed. So far, the Cameron rumors were holding up. She sat down. "That's good!"

"Thank you." Cameron put a fist up to his mouth and cleared his throat. "My first name's not actually Cameron."

"Oh, shit." This was why Cherry should have been more focused on networking with him. "I'm sorry! And this whole _time_ I've been calling you—"

"Oh my god, no-no-no," Cameron spoke quickly, looking a little panicked. "No-you're-fine! Sorry, I meant, um. Like, it's still my name, just not technically. It's the only name I go by. Nicknames aside. Like how nobody calls you Charity, I bet."

"Thank god!" Cherry said. "I felt like such a jerk, I barely got to know you at all this whole time, and then I thought I didn't even get your name right!"

"It's okay," Cameron promised. He had one of those huge covered paper cups from the café, and he took a sip from it and winced. "Don't feel bad about not getting to know your online research partner. I didn't take much initiative to get to know you either! I just wanted to be _done_ with…"

"With this stupid project! Yeah," Cherry agreed. She opened up her laptop and typed in her password.

"It's kind of fucked up, right?" Cameron asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Like, they're going to use our research and the site we built and charge people admission to see it. But we're paying tuition to take the class that's making us create it." Cameron slid his computer around so his screen was facing Cherry. "What do you think of this layout?"

Cherry leaned forward and squinted, Cameron's former observation still on her mind. "I never thought of it that way," she said.

"We can also—"

"Sorry, I meant the thing you said about the assignment being fucked up!" Shoot. Cherry did her best to take her foot out of her mouth. "The layout looks great! Did you make it?"

"I used a…" Cameron gasped suddenly and turned away, coughing dryly into his arm. "Sorry! No, I used a template."

"Oh cool! I can start entering in some of my newer stuff if you want to send me the access link?"

"Sure. I'm on it now."

Cameron took his computer back, which lead Cherry to notice that his hands were shaking. "Is that coffee?" she asked, eyeing his gigantic cup.

"Hm?" Cameron typed something in and then made eye contact with her, his brow furrowed.

"Your drink," Cherry said.

"No, it's, uh." Cameron lifted the cup and shook it a little. "God. It was hot chamomile tea, but I didn't drink it fast enough, so now it's room temperature chamomile tea."

"Aw," Cherry giggled. "Tough break for you."

"Tell me about it." Cameron cleared his throat again. "Okay, try the link I just sent."

While Cherry tested it, she decided to make up for lost time. "What are you studying, Cameron?"

"Like, right now?" he asked.

"No, no, your concentration!" Cherry clarified.

Cameron smiled and nodded at her like he knew what she was doing and was accepting the conversation. "Mostly history."

"Oh, I love history!" Cherry couldn't help dialing back her enthusiasm, even for mundane small talk like a what's-your-major ice breaker. She worried sometimes about sounding fake, but she mostly meant the energy that she communicated.

"Yeah, I think it's really…" Cameron paused and broke eye contact to think. "Funny. Like how people have always been the same. There's always something weird and dumb and remarkable going on with us. It's cool to look at."

Cherry hadn't thought about things that way, either. "You're so right," she said. "I'll have to think about it some more."

"What are you studying, Cherry?"

"I'm a pyromancer," Cherry said.

Cameron beamed, radiating genuity in a way that Cherry always wished she could. "That's awesome."

"Thank you!" Cherry glowed. "I'm in a pyromancy sorority, actually! And most of us are studying something to do with that, but I really want to work in education somehow, too, so I'm trying to figure out a way to combine them."

"I love that. Did you want to teach higher ed, or…" Cameron broke off to cough again, dry and irritated like before, but it went on for longer this time. " _God_ , sorry! I…"

"Oh, here! Here, hang on." Cherry reached into her purse and grabbed a cylinder full of hard candies. "I don't have cough drops, but — here they are! — these are really good in a pinch."

She held them out to Cameron and he took one.

"Are you sick?" Cherry asked.

"A little," Cameron admitted as he unwrapped a strawberry bud, the kind that was sometimes filled with gel. Cherry didn't like the mystery, so she was glad Cameron had chosen it so her assorted bag had one less of them. "I was out last week, but I promise I'm not contagious now — just still sort of…"

"Aww," Cherry said. "You could have told me the other day, you know! I wouldn't have made you come out here in _the_ cold if I knew you were getting over one."

Cameron shook his head, which made his hair move a little. "I couldn't have told you," he said, his faded voice stone-serious. "Remember? We weren't friends then. Barely knew each other."

"Unlike now!" Cherry said with a wink.

"Yes." Cameron popped the candy in his mouth and held up the shiny, seed-printed wrapper. "Thanks. I bet this'll help."

"Only the best for you, now that we're friends." Cherry nodded, playing along, and focused back on her computer. The access link worked just as Cameron promised, and the site really did look nice. Professional. The pages were crisp and easy to navigate, and all of his information was already entered in a way that was articulate and readable

"You did such a good job with this, Cameron," Cherry praised. "Have you made a lot of websites before?"

"Hmm. Sometimes," Cameron answered. He leaned forward a little. "But they've all been… Uh, none of them were serious, just like, joke-projects."

"I bet you're really fast, though, with all that practice!" Cherry said as she continued to scroll. "Ooh, you're gonna have to show me how to translate all of my data."

"Sure, yeah," Cameron agreed. "Should I—"

"Yeah, come this way!" Cherry slid her chair closer to the wall and made room for Cameron to migrate to her side of the table. He shut the lid of his own laptop and made his way over to take a look at Cherry's.

"Oh, cool. You've got a lot of stuff…" he commented, peering over her shoulder. "Do you—"

"Oh, sure—"

"Mind if— oh, sorry—"

"No, you— sorry!"

"I…"

"Oh my god, _sorry!_ " Cherry blurted. "I know I talk over people sometimes. I'm trying to work on it."

"It's okay, I do too. It's probably what makes us a perfect team."

"I think it makes us an inefficient team, Cameron!"

Cameron looked down and to the side, nodding thoughtfully. "Yeah, maybe. But look at how great we're doing." He seemed like he was joking, or maybe half-joking, but something about the way Cameron spoke to her made Cherry feel like they were in on the joke together. "Anyway, um, I was going to ask… Did you want me to give you instructions, or should I just…?"

"Oh, no, you can drive." Cherry moved the computer closer to him. "I don't want to be a dead weight, but you'll be way faster than me."

Cameron got to work. Now that he was closer, Cherry noticed that the was sniffling a little, which of course wasn't abnormal for someone who just spent the better part of a week fighting a cold, but it still made her feel kind of bad for him even if he didn't seem too bothered. She trusted his presentation, because he didn't seem much like the stoic type. At the risk of being overbearing or making it seem like the sniffling was bothering _her_ , Cherry offered Cameron a tissue from her purse.  

"Here, if you want it," she said.

"Ah. Cool, thank you." Cameron took one from the little travel-sized package that Cherry carried with her. He turned away. "Sorry, I…"

"No, dude, it's okay if you blow your nose. That's why I gave one to you."

Cameron did, and very gently at that, but Cherry knew people had their hangups. He was coughing again when he got up to throw the tissue away.

"That cough just won't leave you alone, huh?" Cherry said when Cameron sat back down.

"Yeah," Cameron said, sounding equal parts guilty and like he was laughing at himself, neither of which Cherry thought were appropriate responses to being sick. He went back to typing on her keyboard. "My lungs aren't happy. Or maybe it's the bronchial tubes? I'm not sure. Whatever's in my chest."

"You should totally be resting," Cherry said. "Not to tell you what to do, though!"

"I'm okay," Cameron promised. He smiled at her and really did look okay. "Little stir crazy. I'm not, um… I mean, at least I'm…" His sentence seemed to get suck, and Cameron paused to recollect himself. "I, uh. I'm taking it easy. I'll probably go home when we're done with this."

Cherry didn't know how he could type so quickly about their research while still speaking to Cherry about his cough; she could hardly type while music was playing in the background. Maybe Cameron was remarkably smart like everyone said. She wanted to ask him about it, but chose not to distract him, instead peering over at the screen and watching Cameron continue to enter data from her drafts into the template boxes.

Other than confirming the hearsay that Cameron did in fact have a heart and a brain, Cherry's meeting with him didn't teach her much other than that he'd been sick and was taking it in stride and he knew how to use a computer, and he was sort of mysterious and funny but got tongue-tied a lot.

Not a lot to go on, but it was a start.

Eventually, the website was all caught up to speed. Cameron didn't look particularly proud of it, but Cherry thought he should have been.

"We should get together again, like, without the project!" Cherry suggested as they began to pack up. "It'll be nice to see a familiar face around. I think we've got some friends in common. Do you know, um… Cooper Chang or Jake Choudry? They have the best parties."

Cameron slung his bag over his shoulder and slipped one of his gloves on but pocketed the other. "Yeah, I think so," he said earnestly.

"Ty Omiata?" Cherry tried.

"Oh yeah. I know Ty," Cameron said, glancing at the ground and then back up at Cherry. "We uh, hooked up last weekend at some mixer."

"That's why he knew your name!" Cherry said. "Ooh, do you think he got you sick?"

Cameron laughed a little. "I wasn't paying attention. But maybe. It's okay if he did."

"How about…" Cherry thought for a second. "Oh! You know what? My girlfriend Clarissa is having a—"

"Oh! Clarissa—"

"Yeah, Clarrisa the Siren," Cherry said proudly. "You know her?"

"I know… um… who she is," Cameron said. That wasn't unusual; a lot of people knew Clarissa. She was charming and beautiful - and that wasn't just Cherry's bias! - and there weren't a lot of Sirens at the university, which already had a smaller student body to begin with. "I'm a Siren too."

What?

"What?" Cherry asked.

"Yeah, from my mom's side," Cameron continued. "I'm not… very… practiced, though."

"Oh, that's okay," Cherry told him, knowing better than to start prying because Cameron was starting to look a little troubled. "Nobody's perfect! Anyway, I was going to say that Clarissa has these karaoke parties at her townhouse after midterms every quarter, so you should come to the next one! You don't have to sing. A lot of people don't."

"Maybe for the best," Cameron agreed as he and Cherry both headed out the door. "That sounds cool, though, maybe I will."

"I'm sure I'll see you before then, though!" Cherry promised. "Keep in touch, Miller!"

Cameron waved goodbye, mystically smiling at her nice and bright with his teeth showing, and Cherry adjusted her scarf and hoped that he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wanna know what i love??? ill give you two hints:  
> -writing people talking over each other  
> -sorority girls!!!!!!!! i do i just love them
> 
> i have other stuff waiting around but i was walking home from work yesterday and cherry came into my head and i had to write this one down immediately
> 
> the next chapter is going to be really better >:3 click on...


	3. cameron ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heed the teen rating for this one!!!!! yeehaw

"Why do you never, ever wash your dishes?" Cameron asked as he walked through the back door of Sybil's shared apartment, entering the kitchen and setting his bag down on the empty countertop.

"Because washing dishes sucks," Sybil told him. She was curled up and barefoot on a wooden chair at the table, eating a rhubarb pie right out of the tin. "Hi Cameron. You look just horrible, sweetheart."

The way she said it wasn't particularly sweet, despite the pet name, which made sense because Sybil somehow always knew exactly when to actually be concerned about Cameron and when to tease him. Most of the time, the teasing helped put things into perspective when Cameron got caught in a spiral.

"Something in the air is getting to me," he explained as he took a seat across from Sybil at the table. "Why. How do I look. Don't go easy."

"Pink," Sybil said. "Little puffy. You want some?"

"No, I'm okay."

"Like I'd ever go easy on you." Sybil reeled the pie closer to her and continued to dig in. "Soooo. My very tall roommate's card game got canceled."

"Zaor?"

"Yeah, Zaor. He thinks you're just so cute."

Cameron sniffled and said, "Don't let him see me like this."

"Please. Zaor won't care," Sybil said. "He's looking for something to do tonight. Do we have any plans? Or were you going to stay in your apartment and make up conspiracy theories on Twitter?"

"I…" Cameron tried to say more than just one letter, maybe even a full word, imagine that, but Christ his face was itchy and the tingling had escalated too quickly for him to try and speak through its result. He sneezed toward his shoulder in a set of three, so urgently that they would've completely toppled over each other if not for the gasping breath between each one.

"Aw. Bless you, honey," Sybil said, but sincerely this time, like she really felt bad for him.

"Jesus." Cameron recovered quickly, but the itch was still there. "Thanks."

"You didn't get me," Sybil reassured him, as had been customary for the past few months. On the off chance that his Siren song did slip through during a sneeze — which really wasn't all the time, but it was _some_ times, and that was enough to make Cameron paranoid  — Sybil would let him know right away and ask if he could tell while it was happening. Again, the answer was yes only _some_ times. Cameron still appreciated her effort. "What were you saying?"

"I wanted to say…" Cameron rubbed the heel of his palm against the side of his nose. God, it was annoying. "Uh, I got invited to this thing a few months ago, do you remember Clarissa?"

" _Do I remember_ -! God, Cameron, of course I remember…"

"I thought you would." Cameron grinned. "I worked with her girlfriend Cherry on a project last quarter, and she told me Clarissa has these karaoke house parties—"

Sybil dropped the plastic spoon that she was using to eat the pie. It bounced right against the crust. "Cameron!" she scolded him. "You met and _hung out_ with Clarissa's girlfriend and you didn't tell me. Cameron. I can't believe it. I cannot believe you."

"I was so sick," Cameron recalled in defense. "Like, I practically lost my voice and I was _so tired_ but I didn't want to freak her out _and_ we had a deadline, so all of my energy went into acting normal and healthy instead of remembering to tell you that she invited me to her girlfriend Clarissa's midterm-relief karaoke party."

"I bet she knew you were sick anyway, right?" Sybil guessed, quickly recovered from being left out of the loop. "Your face is a huge giveaway."

"Oh yeah. We talked about it quite a bit."

"It's not a bad thing," Sybil promised. "When is the party? Oh my god, I'd love to see Clarissa again. I know she has a girlfriend and I respect that and it's just fine. It would be great to see her. It's been ages. Seriously. She's like, the prettiest girl I've ever—"

"It's tonight."

"Okay, perfect! We can invite Zaor."

"I'm…" Cameron ran a hand through his hair, brushing it back, but it fell right back into his eyes as soon as he lowered his hand. "I'm nervous about being around that many people when, I'm… all…"

"Oh my god, Cameron, honey. It's fine." Sybil stood up to put the pie back into the fridge and then walked over to the open window. "Is this bothering you? I had it open because we don't have central AC."

Cameron shrugged. "I think it's too late, so you don't have to worry about it."

"Alright." Sybil sat back down. "So Cameron. Anyway. We have to go to Clarissa's. I think, like… worst case scenario, if you _do_ accidentally put a cool Siren charm on the whole party… Which I totally doubt will happen… Then everyone's disoriented for a little while and we laugh about it after. No disasters. People understand."

"I would feel so bad. Like, just so bad," Cameron said.

"But you're the only one who would! Seriously. I know you have hang-ups because of your parents and stuff, but like, shit happens. _And_ you could talk to another Siren about it. I bet Clarissa can help you!"

"I'm not going to make her give me Siren lessons at her own party!"

"Did I say that? No! But dude. It'll at least open the door. There aren't a lot of Sirens who go here, I bet she'll be stoked to meet you."

" _Ugh_ ," was all Cameron had to say about that, because Sybil was right, as usual, and the whole situation was incredibly overwhelming and he wished he could just reschedule his allergies for another night.

"Okay-cool. I'm texting Zaor about it right now." Sybil crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, and the glow on her face was making Cameron feel a little better. "He's gonna be thrilled."

Cameron hung out at Sybil's for a couple hours, chatting in the kitchen until evening started to take hold, after which they moved over to Sybil's west-facing living room to watch the lengthening Spring sunset. Sybil offered to make Cameron a poultice with a recipe from her superwitch ex-roommate, but she didn't have a lot of practice with medical spells and Cameron wasn't about to start messing around before a party just because he had the sniffles.

Zaor got home from work long after it had gotten dark, then headed straight for his bedroom to change with a promise that they could head over to Clarissa's right after. Cameron had forgotten how tall Zaor was, and he got a little flustered when Zaor re-entered the living room moments later, tying his hair up in a sleek black bun and wearing a henley that was perfectly, magnificently just a little too short.

"Look at _you_ all cleaned up!" Sybil said, hopping up off the couch. She jangled her keys. "Are you trying to look hot for Cameron?"

"I always look hot," Zaor shot back. His voice was so deep that it almost rumbled. "But yeah-for-sure. It's working?"

Cameron felt his eyebrows go up, which wasn't a flattering look. He couldn't believe someone like Zaor was into him, even if it was probably in a shallow, easy way since they barely knew each other. It wasn't like Cameron couldn't say his feelings weren't the same, and most of the time, when it came to this kind of thing, a superficial fondness was exactly enough.

"It's working," he confirmed.

"I was going for the squid ink pasta look," Zaor said. "All black all over."

"Your hair's not stringy enough," Cameron said.

Zaor patted the top of his scalp.

"Okay! Let's get a move on," Sybil insisted. "I know the party started hours ago because a lesbian is hosting it and we all like to turn in be _fore_ three in the morning, so…"

"Is Clarissa a lesbian?" Cameron asked.

"Yeah. Cherry's bi, but Clarissa's gay."

"How do you know that?"

"I'm a lesbian too. Duh," Sybil said. "You think I wouldn't know who's a lesbian and who isn't?" She typed something in on her phone, leaning back against the armrest of the couch. "Let's just take a cab. Cameron, honey, you have the address, right?"

Cameron recited Clarissa's street and house number — which took a couple of tries because she lived on _Nadine Avenue_ and Cameron was too congested to pronounce it clearly the first time, so he had to spell it, which Sybil also didn't understand the first time, so he got frustrated and had to use the military alphabet (" _November Alpha Delta India November Echo_ AV-EN-UE"), which ended up working _just fine_ , and then Sybil had to make fun of him for it in front of Zaor, which, whatever, thanks a lot — and the three of them were promptly seated in the back of a car on their way to the party.

It would have been cool to teleport, but it was a short ride with the windows up and air conditioning blasting. The cab driver played a bizarre country-dubstep song that Cameron sort of liked, just because it was so terrible.

He didn't bother texting Cherry when they arrived, because he knew that these parties tended to be big enough for people to filter in and out, so Cameron just planned on saying hi to her when he saw her.

It didn't take long. He'd lost Zaor within the first five minutes of stepping inside, and Sybil danced off to find, in her own _exact_ words, the lesbian congregation of karaoke night. Cameron was doing okay navigating the crowd alone, beyond used to big parties at that point, when Cherry literally bumped into him and offered him a drink.

"It's _fire_ whiskey, have a sip — oh my GOD, Cameron Miller?!"

Before he could help it, Cameron felt his face mirroring Cherry's shocked expression, even though he wasn't nearly as surprised to see her as she was to see him. Something about her enthusiasm was so contagious.

Cherry leaned in to hug him hello, and Cameron squeezed her back. Before he let go, he said close to her ear, "Who did you think you were offering your drink to?"

"I don't know, just whoever!" Cherry answered, beaming as she pulled away. "Do you want to try it?"

"Love to," Cameron answered. He took the sparkling glass from her hand and took a quick drink. It burned intensely, but not in the way alcohol usually did. Cameron wondered if it might have been made up of a potion that literally turned to a burning flame inside of you, just before fizzling out. The burn was gone in an instant. "Holy shit, Cherry. What's in this?"

" _Fire_ ," Cherry said, taking the drink back from him. "So good, right? One of my sisters made it. She's awesome with potions."

"Is it going to do anything to me?" Cameron asked.

"No! It won't get you high or anything like that. She has some other stuff that might, I think, if you want, I'm not sure…"

"That's okay, I'm not looking for anything in particular," Cameron said. He curled one of his hands into a fist to keep himself from rubbing his nose, which was still kind of driving him crazy. Being inside wasn't doing much to help like he thought it might.

"Okay!" Cherry took a long sip of her drink, keeping eye contact. "I'm so happy you could make it, Cameron. Did you come here with anyone?"

"Oh, yeah, I…" God, now was just not the time. Maybe the music would be loud enough to mask any spell that he might accidentally cast on Cherry or any other innocent partygoers that happened to be standing within earshot. Cameron managed a breathless, " _Sorryexcuseme-!_ " as quickly as he could before he ducked into his forearm to sneeze. It wasn't like he had any other choice.

He almost had the first one under control; it barely slipped out. The second one, however, felt like it was pushing itself out of him, loud and vocal and expressive in a way that was familiar but always unintentional. He waited for a third that didn't come. The ridiculous itching inside his face remained unabated.

" _Bless_ you!" Cherry's hand was on his shoulder before Cameron had unfolded himself, and although he hadn't felt his Siren voice popping up where it wasn't needed, the touch definitely could have meant that it'd sailed right out of him unnoticed. Maybe if he played it cool, he could apologize and they could wait for it to wear off of her together. "You really are out of practice, aren't you?"

"Thank y— What?"

"Your Siren song!"

So he had done it after all. The panic set in.

"Oh my god, I'm _so_ sorry—"

"It sounded great!" Cherry smiled at him and wobbled her cup. "I take this potion that Clarissa makes for me, so I can't get hypnotized, but I can hear the spell it's blocking out. She likes to practice singing sometimes when we're hanging out, and it's kind of weird getting charmed by someone you're already in love with, so."

"Oh my god," Cameron said again, still stuck. Cherry giggled.

"It's no big deal!" she said. "Sometimes that happens to Clarissa too. Not a lot though."

"No way."

"Oh yeah. It does! Like, sometimes, you just really have to sneeze, I guess." She took another sip of bewitched pyro-whiskey. "...Did I already say bless you? I forgot."

Cameron relaxed a little. "You did." It was almost like having permission from Cherry brought the allergic buzz back to the front of his face, and his body really went for that third sneeze after all, just as powerfully as the preceding one had been.

"Bless _you!_ " Cherry said again.

"Thank you."

"That one wasn't enchanted."

"No?"

Cherry shook her head.

"It's so helpful that you can tell," Cameron said. "Sometimes I can't."

"Yeah, normally no one can actually hear if a Siren is using their special voice or not. It's kind of cool having a secret superpower," Cherry said. "Are you sick?"

"No, no!" Cameron laughed. "I promise your glass is clean. I'm just allergic to something."

"Oh no, like something in here?"

Cameron shook his head. "I think it's probably just whatever's growing outside—"

"Oh! You mean, like, you have _hay fever_ ," Cherry deducted, using a British accent to pronounce the term.

"Just a little." Cameron rolled his eyes, mostly at himself, as he tried not to laugh at Cherry's impression. "God. Sorry you've never seen me totally healthy. I promise I'm better company when I am."

"I like you plenty," Cherry said. "Are you okay, though? Do you need me to get you anything?"

"I'm fine," Cameron promised. "Just. Y'know."

"Yeah, I know." Cherry smiled. "Okay, but seriously let me know if you need anything! Okay? I really need to go and dance." She pulled Cameron in for a hug and swayed back and forth for a second while she embraced him. "I'll see you in a bit!"

Cameron watched her skip off into the living room, admiring her energy. The party was packed more diversity than a lot of the ones Cameron went to, but he knew Clarissa must be popular so it made sense that she'd know a lot of different kinds of people. Attendance was also understandably high; students were used to tiny apartments and Greek houses, and Cameron didn't think a lot of them would pass up a chance to spend an evening in the kind of place with updated appliances and polished wood floors. He wondered, just for a moment, about what Clarissa's parents were like.

Remarkably different from his own, if her accomplished grip on the Siren song was anything to go by.

But god, a karaoke party wasn't really the place to start resenting his parents. Cameron thought about finding and approaching Clarissa to talk about it after all.

"Hey," someone said from behind him. "I've been looking for a you, dude."

"Squid-ink Zaor…" Cameron said as he turned around. He had to look up a little to make eye contact. "You found me."

"I did! Having a good time?" Zaor asked. He seemed to take the nickname in stride.

"Yeah, sorta," Cameron said, but that sounded kind of shitty, so he changed his answer and repeated, "Yeah. Are you? Sorry your game was canceled."

"Nah, this is more fun, I think." Zaor pushed just one of his sleeves up. "I saw Sybil huddled up with this _huge_ group of witches just now, so she for sure won't be coming home tonight."

Cameron wasn't sure if Zaor was coming onto him or not, but he was usually good at picking up that kind of hint. He went with his gut, but instead of being smooth or flirty or charming or normal, he just looked up at Zaor and said, "Do you want to make out?"

"Thank heavens one of us asked." Zaor grinned and Cameron could see his little fangs, which made him confident that he was making the right decision.

Zaor was great at kissing. He definitely looked like he would be, so Cameron wasn't surprised when they found a secluded hallway off to the side of the party and Zaor knew just what to do with his hands and tongue. Cameron wasn't lacking in experience himself, but he still let Zaor take the lead.

Sometimes, guys really wanted to talk to Cameron while they were kissing him. Zaor wasn't doing much of that, at least not right away but a lot of the time they'd make lots of hurried breathless comments about him, which Cameron didn't mind because they were all nice things, but it did make him feel a little bad because there was no way he was going to try and talk during something like that, just in case he accidentally spoke with magic and put a spell on the person he was making out with.

It was so much harder for him to get a grip on it when he was distracted, and obviously in the _heat of the moment_ he wasn't thinking about controlling his voice, so if something _did_ happen they'd ob-vi-ously have to stop because it'd just be so incredibly fucked up to keep kissing someone that you might have put a love spell on _and_ it was so hard to tell anyway because the boys he made out with were — he assumed — into Cameron already, or at least they were at the time, so he couldn't exactly assess the situation correctly, nonetheless properly explain what was going on without stammering like a hapless disaster of a person and _okay-it's-fine-you're-fine_ and god his nose just wasn't working right and _it's-fine-it's-fine_ and then, inevitably, it all got to be too much and Cameron had to pull away to breathe.

"You okay?" Zaor asked. It was really more of a purr. He looked down at Cameron through his eyelashes, his expression a really adorable combination of eager and concerned.

Cameron relaxed and cleared his throat. "Yeah, sorry," he said. "Just, uh, allergies. I'm good. Sorry."

Zaor smiled at him and kissed him again, rubbing his hand up Cameron's back and then snaking it around so he could stroke his thumb over Cameron's cheekbone. "It's kind of hot. Cute. Your voice is a little fucked up."

"I don't…" Cameron huffed out a laugh and nipped at Zaor's jaw, which made him hum beautifully. "…I don't think that's sexy."

"You'd be surprised." Zaor pulled Cameron in tighter, hands on his waist, and kissed him deeply, tongue and all. Cameron reached up and undid Zaor's hair, and his fell down dark and silky and straight around his face and collarbone. Cameron gripped it. "Talk to me."

"I can't." Self-consciously, Cameron turned his head away to sniffle, but Zaor cupped his cheek and jaw to turn his head back and nuzzle the side of his nose. "I'm…"

"It's okay. If you use your other voice by mistake," Zaor promised. He sounded soft. "I just want to hear you. I'm okay with it."

"No way," Cameron disclosed. "I don't want to do that to you."

"Sweet boy." Zaor kissed him again. It felt awesome. "That's okay. How about this…"

He moved his hands downward a little so that they were on Cameron's hips, and then the both of them were back to kissing-without-talking. The physical aspect of hooking up was usually pretty straightforward. As long as he went off of feeling, which wasn't very difficult once he got out of his head, the whole thing didn't give Cameron any problems. Maybe he was lucky for that ability alone. Still, as it continued, he started to consider their options.

The party was as alive as ever on the other side of the wall, and someone could easily enter the hallway at any moment an expose them. It wouldn't be a huge deal, maybe a little embarrassing but it had happened to Cameron before and he survived. It was normal, and part of the risk that came with messing around like that at a social event.

They could find an empty room or something, but that always felt inconsiderate, and it would also be so much worse if someone walked in on them because Cameron was planning on staying in contact with the party host, so he wasn't interested in chancing it. The other alternatives were to go back to Sybil's like Zaor had probably been suggesting earlier, or stop making out and call it a night. Cameron was absolutely not interested in stopping, so he got himself together enough to murmur something about saying goodbye to everyone and calling a cab. Maybe he could thank Clarissa for hosting if he ran into her, or at least get her number from Cherry on his way out. Zaor responded to the plan by using his teeth to pull on Cameron's bottom lip and keeping his hands right where they were.

All things considered, the night went exactly as it was probably meant to go. Cameron forgot all about his mission to talk to Clarissa the Other Siren, and had casual sex with Sybil's roommate Zaor instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this last night and then today when i woke up i thought of this fic on sff called "shadow and mark" and how i always made fun of it because one person has an extra ass goth name like shadow and the other guy has a normie name like mark.
> 
> like literally im telling you the first thing i thought of as the foggy winter light made its way into my coach house bedroom was "oh no. shadow and mark. zaor and cameron. the demon is inside me now" buuuuuut hmm maybe it's okay because it's an urban fantasy and zaor is NORMAL NAME in that world and everyone else has kinda regular names anyway so uhh so UHH suck on that!! its fine!!!! just kidding you can make fun of me. in fact i welcome it


	4. sybil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sybil adores cameron like more than i do and i made him up

Cameron’s mind ran at a thousand miles a minute, and Sybil didn’t mean that in the hyperbolic way that Cameron would have said it, either. He really did have one of the fastest minds she’d ever known, and he tended to act and speak just as quickly.

There was a dichotomy about him!

The second literally anything happened to Cameron, or even around him, his mind started to bombard him full of questions and possibilities, heaps of what-ifs in both negative and positive directions, noticing all sorts of patterns and relevancies and trying to figure out what to do with them. But Cameron was impulsive and didn’t think ahead much, and his racing mind either pushed him into making quick decisions, as if he was trying to purge the anxiety out of his head, or rendered him completely frozen and ultimately useless.

But there was a dichotomy to that dichotomy too, because as much as Cameron could be wired from the inside out, he relaxed and deflated just as quickly. It was ridiculous how he would analyze and agonize when he wasn’t even in trouble, and then do something like leak a bunch of confidential academic information _on purpose_ and barely fret when he got caught.

“You might get kicked out of school,” Sybil warned him. “Were you thinking about that when you made all those pages?”

Cameron made a face that said he hadn’t, but not that he was regretting it. “I dunno,” he said. “I think it’s kind of evil to archive a bunch of culturally-sensitive information and then keep it in pay-to-read journals, locked away from people who are actually part of that culture.”

“Is that what you’re going to say to the dean?”

“I credited all the right sources.” Cameron shrugged. “The university just wanted to hoard it for the sake of exclusivity.”

“Oh my god, dude. You’re right, but I don’t think the dean is going to care if you didn’t plagiarize,” Sybil said.  

“Yeah,” Cameron agreed. “Because he probably wanted to get off to keeping this stuff to himself and whoever else in the smart people inner circle. It’s, like, harmless artifacts and stories, not even news-worthy, so nobody got hurt. They're just trying to make a point.”

“When’s your meeting?” Sybil asked.

“It’s later today,” Cameron told her. The day before, he’d texted Sybil for help because he got stuck in the laundry room in his building – not stuck as in locked in, but stuck as in his clothes were clean and damp but someone else in the building had left their own clothes sitting in the dryer and Cameron was seriously panicking over whether it would be appropriate to take them out or not. He'd sent seven texts in a row. But now? Cameron was probably in big trouble, facing possible expulsion and looking totally relaxed about it. “I’ll figure something out.”

That was another go-to of his, resigning to _figure it out_ one way or the other. Usually what happened was that Cameron would put it in the back of his mind and fall into a blank-minded panic at show time, but there were other times when he really did an impressive job of pulling things off. Sybil knew it was the anxiety; as long as Cameron wasn't freaking out, he wasn't really that bad at improv. He was kind of awkward, but that worked in his favor sometimes; it was cute on him, because of how clear it was that Cameron was aware of himself. It was humanizing, and that was part of what made him so likable.

Cameron did end up _figuring it out_ with the dean, as it turned out. Sybil thought that he'd at least lose one of his scholarships, but he managed to hold onto that too. She doubted he'd convinced the university to change its ways, but Sybil suspected that Cameron was smart enough to plead his case effectively. He was remarkably clear-headed while defending himself when he didn't believe he'd done anything wrong.

Even though he sort of had. Like, he did break a bunch of rules, for sure. But ethically, Cameron's conscience was clean, and that was more than enough to override his neuroses.

He'd definitely inherited them from his parents — at least, that was her assumption based on what Sybil knew about them. Cameron spoke of them fondly and they seemed to be in regular, non-estranged contact, but he also said that his mother had a "dark past" (Cameron's words. Really) with her Siren song and that she and Cameron's dad both really hated that Cameron had been born a Siren too. That sounded real fucking shitty to Sybil, to freak out about someone's natural abilities and force them to keep them locked up until they come chaotically bursting out of that person in their early 20s, but Cameron insisted that they were great with him otherwise.

It really was a testament to how nice of a person Cameron was. If Sybil's parents had done something like that to her, she would have cut them off for sure, Siren trauma or no Siren trauma. They should have gotten their fucked up issues together before having a kid and weaving them right into him, stunting and tangling his powers and giving him an anxiety disorder.

Not that Cameron wasn't great, but if someone like him could utilize their Siren voice with even the slightest bit of mastery? God, it practically gave Sybil butterflies. He'd be unstoppable.

He didn't like to dwell on that much, though, with his focus on what-might-be countering Sybil's tendency to obsess about what-could-have-been.

"How come you got caught this time?" she asked Cameron a few days later, doing just that. He'd screwed around with university confidentiality tons of time, usually under the same ethical guidelines, but he'd been smart enough about it to stay anonymous. The only fallout was his accounts eventually getting shut down.

Cameron laughed in response. He often kind of seemed like he was laughing at something, but Sybil didn't always know what it was.

"I just gave the website a stupid name," Cameron said. "Usually I name them something really obvious, like University-Name-Cheating-Network, just kind of for myself—"

"God, Cameron, that is stupid."

"No. It's so funny," Cameron argued. "Eventually I remember to change it to something generic like, uh, Jen-Fisher-Sixty-Two-Eighty or whatever. So nobody sees it and tries to report it."

"And do you, like, advertise this stuff at all?" Sybil asked.

"Nah, people just find it," Cameron said. "Someone follows it under the original name and then everyone else manages to see it after I change it to the generic. Probably some algorithm thing."

"But you didn't change it _this_ time," Sybil deduced.

"No I did not." Cameron didn't look too perturbed. "I don't know. I just forgot. I've been busy."

"You've been hooking up with Zaor," Sybil corrected. Whatever they had going on seemed pretty discreet and casual, like most things in Cameron's love life tended to be, but Sybil was close enough to both of them to know that it'd been going on for months.

"Hmm. Sometimes," Cameron said. "Not just him."

"Wow. Go Cameron."

Cameron shrugged. He looked satisfied, like he was off in his head again, but that time in a peaceful way. Slower. He kept repeating to her that he didn't want a boyfriend, that he wasn't in the right shape or following the right schedule to be in a relationship. She supposed it was fair; Cameron was kind of a mess, despite his academic success, which would have been enough of a reason, but he'd also dated his childhood best friend all throughout high school. It made sense that he would be seeking a different kind of romance in contrast; the fun and easy non-monogamous kind, at least for the present. It wasn't like most people were meant to settle down in their twenties, anyway.

"So." Sybil was ready to get back on topic. "Was this, like, a wake up call for you?"

"Nope," Cameron said. "The institution needs to go down."

Sybil laughed at that. "God. You know what you sound like when you say that, right?"

"Yeah. But it's so true," Cameron said. "Academia is wicked."

"The good kind or the bad kind?"

" _Obviously_ the bad kind."

"You're pretty close to a fancy degree," Sybil reminded him. "You're participating in academia too, even if you think  you're above it, so you've got to play the game."

"I know how to play it well enough to break some rules," Cameron said. "I've been doing it for years and I only _just_ got noticed because of a really easy mistake. If they wanted to let me into this school then they have to deal with me."

"Oh yeah, you're a real gale force eleven."

"Maybe even a twelve. You haven't seen what I can do." He sounded so serious that Sybil couldn't help laughing again. Sometimes people didn't know Cameron was joking when he used that shitty deadpan, usually when they were first meeting him and didn't know what he was like. It was kind of masturbatory, knowingly using a joke that the people around you might not get, but at least Sybil was usually around to appreciate it.

"I'd love to see what you could do after getting your graduate credentials in one piece," Sybil told him. "So, like, you should call it quits with all this risky business."

"I can't," Cameron said. "I love to cheat and steal too much."

"God! Why are you saying it like that?" Sybil was still laughing. "You actually do!"

"Yeah, but in a nice guy way."

"Don't say nice guy."

"In a nice guy way."

"I'm going to throw something at you."

"Please," Cameron said. "I would love that."

Sybil didn't go through with her threat just then, but she did tell Cameron to be careful. Telling him to do something preemptively was very rarely effective; Cameron would, nine times out of ten, throw caution to the wind. But he was lucky, because, again, nine times out of ten, he got away with it, at least when it came to the things that were actually important. Maybe everything working out for him in that regard was what gave him so much confidence in dire situations — why worry about something turning into a disaster when your experiences had time and time again proven otherwise?

But that hardly explained the other half of Cameron, the part that immediately retracted any clever statements he made in unfamiliar company and spent half an hour trying to decide what kind of laundry detergent to buy. It was like he was opening a door for himself and slamming it shut just as soon as he attempted to poke his head through the opening, over and over again, the whole thing a tangled disarray of personality and fear. For all of himself that Cameron was conscious about hiding, he gave away by wearing his heart on his sleeve.

Sybil watched Cameron dodge the rolled-up paper napkin she tossed at his head and wondered what he would become.


	5. clarissa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my favorite part

**From** : cltzavaras@uwdc.edu

 **Sent:** May 26 at 4:08 PM

 **To:** ccmiller@uwdc.edu

 **Subject:** Claire here!

Dear Cameron,

I didn't know if this would be the best way to contact you. Facebook seemed kind of creepy since we've never actually met. My name is Clarissa Tzavaras, and I'm in a different program than you are but I think we know some of the same people, so I wanted to extend you a quick hello. I didn't know what to say, but I've been wanting to contact you for a little while and nobody I asked had a single bad thing to say about you, so I thought I'd give it a shot.

I kind of regret not doing this sooner, but I'm about to graduate so I won't be around much longer if you wanted to talk in person or hang out some time. My girlfriend Cherry told me you were a Siren. Sorry if that was supposed to be a secret! But I'm a Siren too. I think we might be the only ones on campus right now. I don't know if that's weird to say, but I haven't met any others here. We aren't particularly rare, but I have always understood that Sirens tend to stick together in groups. My family was really close, and I'm kind of lonely for that community! Have you been feeling the same thing while in school?

I hope all is well with you, good health and all of that. Please don't feel any pressure to respond right away! Except, maybe kind of do, because like I said, I'm going to graduate soon! Up to you though.

All my best,  
Claire

 

 **From:** ccmiller@uwdc.edu

 **Sent:** May 26 at 4:14 PM

 **To:** cltzavaras@uwdc.edu

 **Subject:** RE:Claire here!

Dear Claire,

I'm g

 

 **From:** ccmiller@uwdc.edu

 **Sent:** May 26 at 4:22 PM

 **To:** cltzavaras@uwdc.edu

 **Subject:** FW:RE:Claire here!

Claire I am SO SORRY about that.

LOOKS LIKE I got so excited that I went off and hit send prematurely, I guess! I'm on my phone. Sorry again. Promise I'm a wonderful email correspondant most of the time. Please please excuse any typing or autocorrect errors, but I've been trying to type carefully this time. I'm jUst going to send it in a separate email now that I've explained myself.

All MY best, as well,  
First Impression Extraordinaire C. Cameron Miller

 

 **From:** ccmiller@uwdc.edu

 **Sent:** May 26 at 5:38 PM

 **To:** cltzavaras@uwdc.edu

 **Subject:** Thank you for your patience (Hello Claire)

Dear Claire,

Okay, I'm on a computer now. Much safer. Hi for real this time.

Thank you so much for reaching out to me! I've been wanting to talk to you for a while now, sorry if that's creepy, and I didn't know how to start a conversation. For some reason I was having so much trouble imagining why someone like you would want to talk to me - guess I just figured you were busy, but that's on me for not taking perspective OR initiative, so I'm sorry for not approaching you myself sooner!

I'm also sorry for not thanking you for throwing an awesome party back in April. I've actually been to your house before, but I'm the worst guest ever and couldn't find you to tell you in person, so thanks right now! I'm sure people tell you that a lot, but one more probably couldn't hurt.

I'm also sorry (but a different kind!) to hear that you've been feeling kind of homesick while studying here. I've heard the same things about Sirens being tight-knit and sticking together. I know that Siren communities tend to settle on the seaside. Is that where you're from, originally?

My extended family lives in Connecticut, but I've never been. They're all really close like you say yours is. I'm a Siren because of my mom, and she moved to Minnesota (Minnesota! I know! Tell me about it!) before I was born, so I lived there until I moved to D.C. for school. It'd make sense that there wouldn't be a lot of Sirens attending here, though, at least demographically. I hope you've enjoyed getting your degree here at least, and I also hope that you'll be able to spend tons of heaps of time with your family soon.

So here's my big confession: I'm actually just so terrible at being a Siren. I'm talking absolutely abysmal. My parents really weren't into the whole Siren thing, long story, so I got pretty much zero practice with it growing up. But you can't keep it in forever, as I'm sure you know. It's not one of those things that can stay dormant in adulthood. It's been a little problematic for me.

Not that I'd ever, ever ask you for help with that or anything. I promise I didn't tell you that to enlist you as my Siren tutor, but I figured I'd come clean. Either way, it would be so cool to meet up with you before you go. Sometimes it can just help to see a familiar face… or hear a familiar voice… even if that voice is chaotic and unpracticed like mine is!

I was going to sign this email by writing something like "Sirenara", as in Sayonara but for Sirens, but I became supremely pissed off at myself for even thinking of it, so I'm not going to.

Talk soon,  
Best wishes,  
Kind regards,  
cccccccccccameron

 

 **From** : cltzavaras@uwdc.edu

 **Sent:** May 27 at 12:01 PM

 **To:** ccmiller@uwdc.edu

 **Subject:** RE:Thank you for your patience (Hello Claire){hi Cameron}

Dear Cameron,

First of all, everyone was right about you. You're very clever and sweet, so thank you for being that way in my direction too. I'm happy I reached out.

Second of all, please don't worry about not having mastered the Siren song. I can't imagine how hard that must be for you, and not only because I love mine so much. Being a Siren is so important to me, and I'm just thrilled to have someone to talk to about it who understands even a little bit. It broke my heart a little to hear that your parents kept you from your abilities and from your community. I'd love to hear that story one day if it's not hard for you to speak about and if you trust me enough.

To answer your question, I'm from the west coast, actually! It's on the other side of the country so I didn't get to visit much, but I'm moving back home right after graduation and Cherry's coming with me, so I couldn't be more excited. I'm going to be kind of sad to leave the townhouse, but I'm sure the next person who lives there will throw parties that are just as fun. ;)

This is bittersweet, isn't it! I would have liked to talk shop with you regarding your Siren voice. I am a little curious about what it's like when it's untuned like that. Probably a lot of uneven power, but I bet it sounds awesome to those who can hear it (like me and Cherry, and she said said it did, so). Hindsight is 20/20. I really wish I knew any other Sirens around here who might be able to help you out with it, since I can't do it from all the way in California. I know you didn't ask for the help, but I would've loved to have been able to offer it.

My graduate ceremony is next weekend, and I fly back the following Monday. Are you free before then?

Nice to meet you,  
Claire

P.S. It's cool that you emailed back fast, even if it was a mistake. I wasn't expecting to hear back so soon, so it was nice to know right away that you got my message!

 

 **From:** ccmiller@uwdc.edu

 **Sent:** May 27 at 2:53 PM

 **To:** cltzavaras@uwdc.edu

 **Subject:** Thank you for your etc

Salutations, Dear Claire,

Do you think it's a Siren thing to be polite? How many times are we going to say thank you to each other? I was reading your email and I wanted to type out an individual thank you for something in every paragraph. I'm not going to because that would be obnoxious, but I did want you to know that I was thinking it, and I appreciate how much you radiate grace and compassion even through a formal, dated written medium like email. No offense to email. I like sending them too.

The whole story with my mom is kind of sad, so I'm sorry if it makes you feel sad at all, but you asked and I don't mind telling you. I don't know how to say it non-grimly because it's actually a bit tragic and I'm not a great storyteller, but at least (spoiler warning) the ending isn't so sad.

This all happened before I was born, so I wasn't there for it and I have to go off of other people's accounts of the story. Basically (sorry to start a story with BASICALLY), my mother has always been very tightly wound, really anxious and neurotic, prone to nervous breakdowns, that sort of thing. She's a nice person and does her best, but she suffers at the hands of a pretty severe anxiety disorder that she's never tried to get treatment for. She was having a meltdown at her sister's house and I never found out what it was over, but she lost control of her own voice and caused my cousin Madeline (who was 2 years old at the time) to lose her hearing.

So… fast forward. Madeline is okay. She can still hear the Siren song, so they can communicate sound to her if they're very careful. I've been talking to her for a while, and she's fine. She says that the family has forgiven my mom and it's all good and whatever, but the whole thing really traumatized my parents so I can't be upset with them. They did what they thought they had to do, even if everyone says it was misguided.

It's cool that I get to be a Siren anyway, even if it's getting me into trouble right now. I wish my mom could feel that same sense of pride, but there's only so much I can do. She and my dad get really upset when I mention anything about it, so I just leave it alone.

Please don't worry about finding a teacher for me! The sentiment is really nice. I thought I'd be able to get myself together enough to start learning during college, but it's been busy and I've procrastinated and just generally not improved as much as I thought I would. It doesn't help that I chose a university with virtually no Sirens in it, but everyone said it was such a good school and how fortunate I was to have gotten in so I just kind of went with the flow.

Sorry to give you my whole life story!

I'm half a year away from a post-grad degree, and then I think I want to move up to the northeastern coast. Maybe somewhere with a few islands around it if I can find one. I still have to do some research, but I bet I'll find what I'm looking for there.

Are you free on Friday for lunch? I don't have any dietary restrictions so I'm down for anything. I like Vietnamese food.

Thank you thank you thank you,  
Cameron out

 

 **From** : cltzavaras@uwdc.edu

 **Sent:** May 27 at  9:20 PM

 **To:** ccmiller@uwdc.edu

 **Subject:** RE:Thank you :)

Hi Cameron!

There's so much I want to say about your last message, but I kind of want to do it in person, if that's okay? I do want to say thank you for trusting me enough with your story. I really appreciated being able to hear it. Or read it, I guess I should say. So, thank you.

I have a meeting with my advisor Friday afternoon! Could you do dinner instead? Vietnamese sounds great.

Getting closer,  
Claire

 

 **From:** ccmiller@uwdc.edu

 **Sent:** May 27 at 9:25 PM

 **To:** cltzavaras@uwdc.edu

 **Subject:** THANK YOU

Hi! Claire,

I have Siren Convention dinner plans Friday evening now (with you). Can't wait. I'll add you on Facebook. Easier

See you soon,  
Cameron

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> couple things:  
> -clarissa sent cameron this long and thoughtful introductory email and he sent back "I'm g"  
> -and then sent 2 emails after that  
> -like i know you just read it but i wanted to repeat the sequence of events to you because i think its so. fucking funny. like i know its my own fic but "I'm g" had me in stitches while i was typing this out at work  
> -i have no idea if ill make an epilogue (who knows what my dumbass brain will make me do next!! i dont!!!) but in case it doesnt happen:  
> -cameron and clarissa meet just once and lose contact because shes busy with her popular siren life and isnt online a lot. cameron graduates and moves to maine
> 
> and thats that on that!


End file.
